On The Sly
by notyourpanel
Summary: for the livejournal spnkink meme: Sam and Dean in a traffic jam, bored. How to pass the time?


**Title: **On The Sly  
><strong>Written for:<strong> **spnkink_meme** request here  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> They're stuck in a traffic jam, bored out of their skulls, when they start messing around- hand jobs, furtive bj's, etc, keeping an eye out so they don't get caught. Would like it if Sam was nervous about being seen.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **slash** - handjobs, blowjobs, schmoop  
><strong>Word Count: 1,082<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Don't own the boys, only wish I did, 3

"Dean – get the fuck **down**!" Sam hissed, letting his brother's dick go with another soft 'pop' that had Dean wanting to kick him again. "Sit up straight and act **natural**, can't you? Jeez!"

"Sit up straight an' act natural while you're blowin' me at the wheel. Sure, Sammy, I can do that." Dean rolled his eyes, tugging just slightly at the tangle of brown hair his hand was buried in, petting through it gently and stroking afterwards. Sam licked at the head of his cock by way of apology and shivered as those fingers drifted lower, fluttering gentle at his neck, massaging slowly.

"Maybe…this was a bad idea."

"Don't you fuckin' move!" Dean growled, making him shiver and harden in his loosened jeans.

"Okay," he murmured softly, obediently. Nuzzling into Dean's navel, he slowly licked into his belly button, earning a soft gasp. Sam smiled, tilting his head back a little to the movement of Dean's fingers. "Mmm."

The damp patch between his legs, sticky and cool against his sensitized cock felt a little weird but then he remembered how it got to be in that state and bit back a soft moan. Dean's responding chuckle made his cheeks warm as he realised he hadn't been able to quite hold it back. Starting a little as he felt himself suddenly pulled up, he barely had time to muffle a protest to Dean's lips before he gripped his shoulders to return the hard, fervent kiss with all he had.

Biting and licking into his lower lip, Dean tugged at the hair at the nape of Sam's neck, making his head tilt upward so he could explore and nip his throat, the smooth pale column that just **begged** for his marks every time he looked at it.

Sam was almost straddling him now, the cut of the steering wheel to his half-bare ass not painful but not comfortable and he moaned as he felt Dean bite suddenly at his adam's apple, sucking the skin noisily like it were a particularly juicy and favourite brand of ice-pop.

He could feel small beads of sweat gathering again on his brow through the glare of sunlight shining in through the glass and when Dean lifted his head, kissed softly at his lips, licking it off his upper, he groaned again, rolling his hips into his hands that were holding him in place.

"Dean, I –"

The loud, insistent blare of a horn made him jump and bump his head to the roof, startled. Past Dean's wide eyes and bewildered look for half a second, followed by that loud guffaw of laugher, Sam remembered where they were yet again. On a busy freeway, dozens of cars, broad daylight, naked and trading 'jobs in the car. Oh, God. Oh, **God**.

"Sammy, hey, c'mon."

He ignored the slight tug to his hand, caught in Dean's as he slid once again over to his seat and tried to rearrange himself in his pants, searching around for his shirt only to discover it tossed to the back windshield and out of his reach.

"Don't talk to me," he growled. "Why do I let you talk me into this stuff?"

"Oh, please." Dean lifted his hand and kissed the back of it, a motion so unlike him that Sam stared for a moment, rant forgotten. "Actin' like I forced ya."

Okay, so he hadn't. But - _damn_.

_It had started off with Sam complaining of boredom first, funnily enough. Dean suggested he 'work it out' and to Sam's dubious look in return, flashed one of his trademark sly grins and slid down into the foot well, leg hitched over one side to undo his jeans._

"Hey – Dean, what're y-!"

Dean swallowed down his cock so fast Sam had barely been able to get out a gasp, so wound up from being in the car for so long and on such a hot day that he strained up, gaining friction needily as he arched, bucking hard into his brother's mouth, urging him on, faster, harder – until the first flash of cop sirens whizzed past the opposite lane and startled him. Dean was nice about it, though Sam did earn a soft, resentful bite to his head for backing off when he was going at it like a real slut_ as Dean put it._

_"I'll make it up to you," Sam had mumbled._

_"How?" Dean snorted. "By serenading me? You can't sing for jack squat, Sammy."_

_Actually, he could. Better than Dean, at least. Although he suspected his brother sang bad and off-key on purpose just to rile him. He wouldn't put it past him._

_The 'making up' became a hand-job from the first tentative, soft kisses Sam scattered over Dean's face and neck to soothe him and in the end Dean came with Sam's name on his lips, loud enough that he was sure that people in the other cars could hear. He hoped the glare from the sun was enough they didn't see the bow of Dean's back leaving his seat._

_"Mmm, was good, Sammy."_

_Sam leant across and tenderly licked away the blood on his brother's lower lip from biting down too hard. Trying to keep quiet, for _him.

_"I love you, Dean."_

"- ammy. Sam!"

"Huh?" Sam blinked, brought out of his thoughts abruptly by Dean's hand waving in front of him. "I-I'm sorry, Dean. What?"

"'Said the line still ain't movin'."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Dean blew a particularly loud raspberry and leant back, his head tilting against the seat. "Guess I may as well get some shut-eye."

"Or," Sam said, his lips feeling suddenly very dry so he licked over them.

"Or?" Dean lifted one corner of his shades up to look at him, green eyes wary.

"Or I could blow you."

Dean snorted softly. "Yeah, and back out again? Don't think so, Sammy."

"I won't," Sam said softly, determinedly, already lowering his head down to nudge at his crotch with his nose. "Let me."

"Sam – ah." Dean's voice took on a breathier quality as he started to nibble at his cock through his jeans and he immediately shoved them down and let it spring free.

Hard, hot under his palm and weeping already. Sam swallowed it down without any hesitation, moaning at the taste and letting his fingers stroke inwardly to his thighs, brush up across his balls. Dean lay back, panted out his name and a growl that sounded a lot like _fina-fuckin'ly_ and enjoyed the ride.

**Fin~**


End file.
